Return to Rivendell

[KC]

((OOC: I chose when Aragorn gets to Rivendell, before the Council of Elrond. Do you want to follow the movie or the books more closely here, Arwen, my lady? Did you race the Ringwraiths or not?))

Aragorn ran his hand over his face. He was tired and sore. And, he was man enough to admit it, he had been slightly frightened. Not for himself. No, he was never frightened for himself. However, he had been truly worried that they were going to lose Frodo to the Nazgul's wound.

Yes, all four little hobbits had arrived in Rivendell and were still breathing. To make matters even better, Gandalf had reappeared. He hadn't spoken to Aragorn yet, but it was obvious that something was deeply troubling the wizard. Well, Aragorn would hear about it when Gandalf deemed it fit to tell him.

Something was bothering Aragorn. Rivendell had lost its feeling of a sanctuary. The feeling of security that Aragorn had alway enjoyed here was gone. It was the fault of the Ring. Aragorn sighed softly. It haunted him. He had not felt any inclination to take it from Frodo, and he was comforted slightly by that fact, but his line was weak. Aragorn stared off into the distance, not really seeing anything.

[Lady Arwen]

((No, not yet, but I was going to... We can follow either, I am not going to say anything yet, so you choose... you know it better than I do! Which, thinking of, I am reading the first book right now. ;D))

I was weary from my ride, and had taken rest in my chambers, but I had gathered the strength to come forth and greet the rest of the hobbits as they entered Rivendell. I could feel their pain and anguish already at witnessing Frodo's ordeal, and I sympathized with them greatly. My ada was the best healer that I knew; if anyone would heal Frodo, it would be him.

Bilbo had been estatic to see his nephew, then horrified to hear his fate. I had sat with the old hobbit and consoled him while he grieved the ill begotten fate of Frodo, then excused myself to rest. That was all I needed. I could feel a heaviness pressing down upon me; whether it was worry or stress I did not know. I did not care.

Dressed in my most comfortable gown, I sat by a fountain, staring into the water absently. There was something amiss. The hobbits entered RIvendell and greeted me, I nodded in their direction silently, smiling painfully. I knew they wouldn't see past the smile and into my pain. Only a few could do that, and none of those people were here.

I smiled again, softly, to myself, staring back at the water. The reflection in the water stared back at me, sorrowful. I allowed my face to fall into a relaxed expression, and the sorrow turned into misery. I couldn't look at myself anymore, so I turned my head to the side, and clutched the stone.

Where was Elessar?

[KC]

((In that case, we'll go with the movie. I know that better, anyway since it's far easier to rewatch it than it is to reread the book. ))

Aragorn shifted his weight uncomfortably as he sat with his back to a tree. Now that he was away from the hobbits, he was able to admit that he had been far more worried about something other than the Nazgul hunting Frodo. He was selfish, and he knew it, but Aragorn truly did not care. A friend had once told him that men in love have their vision and thoughts clouded. He believed it now. Instead of wondering about Frodo the second they had arrived in Rivendell, the question of her safety had sprung to his lips. He had allowed her to put her life at risk, and, if any harm had befallen her, Aragorn would never have forgiven himself. The thought of the Ringwraiths trailing her, coupled with, of course, the chance of Middle Earth falling to Sauron once again had fueled his steps toward Rivendell.

Sighing softly, Aragorn pulled himself to his feet.He had been prepared to rush to her the second that he heard that she and Frodo had arrived safely in Rivendell, to gather her up in his arms. But then he had walked past Elrond. The elf had told him that Frodo would live, but his eyes conveyed more to Aragorn than that sentence. Elrond strongly disapproved of Aragorn's relationship with his daughter. And the terrible thing was, Aragorn understood exactly why. Elrond's glance was enough to make Aragorn feel guilty, and it stayed him from hunting her down, wherever she might be in Rivendell.

Aragorn slowly gnawed on his lip. The guilty feeling was wearing away, replaced with one of impatience. He missed her. Shoving his worries about Elrond to the back of his mind, Aragorn strode quickly off to find his Lady Arwen.

[KC]

((Alrighty. Sounds good. ;D))

Aragorn's wandering lead him to the shrine in which the shards of Narsil were reverently kept. Admitting defeat for the moment, Aragorn sat down to rest, noticing a book near his right hand. He picked it up to discover it was of the history of men. Aragorn grimaced ruefully as he opened the book. He was sure that this would make for some good reading.

He heard footsteps, but Aragorn did not look up. It seemed that whoever had entered was making his way to the shrine, judging by the sound the steps were making.

"The shards of Narsil! The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand!"

This time, Aragorn did look stealthily up, merely observing the man who had picked up the hilt of the blade. It was, undoubtedly, a man of Gondor whom Aragorn had never seen before. That made perfectly good sense, though, since Aragorn avoided returning to Gondor whenever possible.

The man was holding the broken blade as one would hold a sword, as if he were imagining Sauron approaching. He suddenly ran his finger over the blade and appeared surprised when blood sprang up. "It's still sharp!" he exclaimed, his amazement clear both in his voice and in his eyes.

Aragorn shifted his weight slightly to make the man aware of his presence. The man of Gondor spun around to meet Aragorn's gaze with his own. Something about Aragorn seemed to unsettle the man, and he said, with a palpable amount of disgust, "No more than a broken heirloom!"

The man carelessly flung the sword back to his shine and it fell to the ground. He appeared torn between picking it up or leaving for only a second, and then the man stalked off.

Aragorn got to his feet once the man left, walking slowly over to the shrine. He carefully and reverently picked up the haft of the sword and gently returned them to their proper resting place. Taking a step back, Aragorn touched his heart with his right hand as a sign of respect and stared at the shrine, all of his guilt and shame and fear suddenly crashing down upon him once again, simply at the sight of this broken sword.

[Lady Arwen]

Time passed and I could feel my strength return, and slowly I looked up from the water. Darkness had settled, and all traces of light had vanished. I rose from my seat by the fountain and wandered into the night. I could feel something, someone. I knew that feeling.

Aragorn.

I felt his love pulling me toward the shrine... toward the place where his fate lie. He was with someone he did not know, and he felt shame that he was bound to his destiny. I knew he hated what his ancestors had done, but I also knew he couldn't hate himself for something he couldn't control.

I walked into the Shrine, ready to see my beloved again. His back was to me, but I could still see his expression, sad yet reverent. I knew he could hear me enter, unless his thoughts were too preoccupied. My footsteps were light and nimble, but I knew my Elessar, and he could hear my breathing a world away.

"Why do you fear the past?" I asked him softly, standing only a few feet behind him. He did not react immediately, so I tried again. "You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate."

[KC]

He heard her enter, of course. He could be sleeping, and she'd walk into the room, and he would just feel her gorgeous presence. But now, he did not turn around to acknowledge her entrance. It was moments like this that truly emphasized his differences from Arwen. Thinking about the wrongs of his ancestors showed Aragorn how weak, how frail, how mortal, how incomplete he was in comparison with Arwen's perfection. He simply stared at the Shrine as her voice melodically drifted over to him, calming him a bit. She trusted him so completely, but Aragorn could not trust himself. He responded wretchedly, "The same blood flows in my veins."

He turned around slowly to view the elf who had stolen his heart entirely and refused to relinquish it. He felt so... so very shamed and lowly and cursed. He had never asked to be born into such a line, and this was one of the few areas in his life where he realized that he was helpless to do anything. Aragorn had tried to hide, but that had amounted only to his coming into contact with his ancestor's bane itself, the One Ring, which seemed to poised and ready to be his downfall as well. He was drowning in his own blood, and the only person in which he could find any strength or comfort was his Arwen.

"Same weakness," he murmured bitterly.

[Lady Arwen]

I touched Aragorn's arm and looked up into his face. He was so troubled, so cold and broken. His eyes bore heavy weights of worries and sorrows and hurts that I couldn't ease away, and it hurt me to see him in so much pain.

There was so much that I wished for him, so much I yearned to take away from him, if only to set him free. To see Aragorn, my love, free of worry and cares and to be happy, like he had been so many years ago, that was my goal. To have him smiling again and to see him at peace was one of the reasons why I stayed away from the fatherlands. To love him was my reason to live, and I knew he understood that.

"Your time will come," I told him gently, stroking his beard, trying to encourage him. "You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it...."

He did not seem to hear my words, so I tried in a tongue he might be more able to hear. Almost forcefully I told him, "A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor. Ú or le a ú or nin." (The Shadow does not hold sway yet, not over you and not over me.)

I took his hand in mine, and began to walk away with him. He followed me not because I wanted him to, but because he knew he needed to. I wanted him to go away from the pain of his past, of the past that didn't belong to him. He didn't deserve the grief the ages had piled up for him. He didn't deserve any of what he was given, not even me.

As we walked toward the garden, I could feel the silence between us. It felt cold and cruel, and unlike the man I had fallen in love with. I knew I had to be strong for him, and hold him while I could. He needed, no, he craved, love, and for the moment that was all I could give him. I couldn't give him the troops he desired to muster, nor the strength he would need in the following days. I could only provide him with love to carry on.

As we walked, I decided to pull his mind away from the Ring and his destiny. "Aragron," I began. "Ennas noad al baur le niniad o a inciath o edain hénarad."

I smiled up at Aragorn and held him closer to me as we walked. In a gentle tone I said, "Leithian le dôl hae a periannath a Frodo." (My love, there is no need for you to worry about the affairs of men tonight. Ease your mind away from Frodo and the hobbits.)

[KC]

He was hurting her. He could see the carefully masked pain in Arwen's eyes, the emotions that she was trying to keep secret to spare his feelings. Aragorn felt wretched for causing her even the slightest bit of pain, she who was so selfless and good, his reminder that the sun would come up in the morning, no matter how black things might appear to be. Time had taken a heavy toll upon him, and this was hurting the one good thing in his life to which he could cling.

Aragorn had changed, and he felt almost deceitful since his Arwen had remained as perfect as she was the day they first met. It felt as if she was upholding her end of a bargain, while he was just dragging her down. Yet, if there was anyone in the world who could change him, heal him, take away his worries and dreads, it was Arwen.

He numbly felt her hand in his, and he followed her blindly, her voice echoing in his head. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it....A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor. Ú or le a ú or nin. He literally felt as if he was now carrying the weight of all Middle Earth and that it was crushing him. He needed to follow her, since she was the only one who could make his load any lighter, to save him from being crushed.

Aragorn heard Arwen telling him to put all thought of Frodo and the Ring from his mind. Wondering how in the world he could possibly do that, Aragorn looked into Arwen’s eyes. His faced cracked into a true grin, his first smile in the longest time. “Looking at you now,” he said softly, “I find it impossible to think of anything but you.”

[Lady Arwen]

Squeezing Aragorn’s hand, I smiled. He was so romantic, when he least tried to be. There were things in this world that he shouldn’t have known, and yet… their heavy presence weighed down on his mind like millstones. He shouldn’t bear such worries, and it hurts me to know that he is in such pain. I try to hide my emotions from my eyes, and to most it would seem as if the suffering of Aragorn and Arwen was nonexistent to the world. Only the few people who know me best; Ada, Aragorn, Galadriel; realize when something is amiss in me.

“My dearest,” I said calmly, “The peace that you find here is all I wish and hope for. So much bears down on you that you do not deserve, and it is that worry that I yearn to take away and bear for you.”

I stopped walking, knowing that he was going to protest my wishes, and placed one slender finger on his lips as he drew breath to speak. Shaking my head ever so slightly, I smiled my simple smile and moved my hand to his beard and held his face there.

“You cannot deny me my wish,” I told him, softly but firmly. "I know the troubles that are in your mind, because they are also in my mind…”

I broke off, thinking of the Ring and how it taunted my Elessar, and how the fate of his forefathers loomed over him and allowed him to see a destiny that was not his own. Through Aragorn’s mind I could feel the shame and dishonor he believed he carried, the forlorn ache and unworthiness in his heart towards me, and the distraction of his destiny, unknown to both he and I.

Ada told me once that greed of Isildur was not present in Aragorn. The man, the Bain from whence peace and prosperity would flow, was good and pure. His soul, Ada said, was clean and whole, and when the time came for the temptation to seize the Ring, he would pass with grace.

”Grace that you will give him,” Ada had said to me long, long ago. ”For from you he will receive sustenance and life. You must never waver in your love or devotion for Elessar, my bein gwaloth.”

It was then that I looked into Aragorn’s eyes, and saw the passion and fire there that burned so deep within him. He had in fact come to pass the judgment of the Ring, and with grace that I knew he gathered on his own. Moments passed slowly in Rivendell, and in those slow moments I took his hand in mine and began walking with him again.

[KC]

She was attempting to led him on again, but Aragorn stopped in horror. "I would not for one moment even think to pass the slightest worry unto you!" he exclaimed softly, recoiling rather guiltily at that thought. "And if I have done so in the slightest way, I am sorry a thousandfold times."

He was startling his beloved Arwen, he knew that, and he felt guilty once again. It seemed as if he was trapped in some sort of building built of guilt and that the walls were closing in on him, threatening to collapse upon him, every way he turned. He ran his hand over his face, either to try to soothe his thoughts or hide from them. He was not sure which.

Aragorn looked into Arwen's eyes and then took both of her hands in his and gently pressed his lips to her fingers. She was his Arwen, immortal and perfect and elfish, and his concerns, the worries of men, never truly should have cost her a moment of distress. She wanted to help him, to relieve him of some of his problems by taking them on herself, but he also wanted to help her. Not for his life would he let anyone harm a hair on her head, so he would not harm her by releasing his haunting fears to her. He shook his head slightly. "You have done nothing to deserve any of this, Arwen. I would not curse you with it."

[Lady Arwen]

I felt the surge of guilt sear from Aragorn and my heart fell. He had not heard what I had tried to tell him, he had not understood that I already knew his fears and worries, that they rested in me as well as he.

“Aragorn,” I said softly, looking back into his eyes, trying to convey with love and grace the compassion I felt. “You do not understand.” I took his hand that held mine and pressed it to my heart, letting him feel my heartbeat. Then, I pressed my hand to his heart, and felt the same beat.

“You and I share thoughts, feelings, memories. What you fear and worry, I feel. I know of it. I can feel the pain and sorrow you have, the worries and cares you possess. Your pains are my pains.”

I let his hand fall and pressed it firmly between my palms. Closing my eyes, I used all of my grace to pass on comfort, peace, and hope to him, to assure him that everything was as it should be, even if it felt wrong.

I sighed, and opened my eyes. In a stronger voice I said, “And as for deserving anything, you do not deserve to feel as you do, either, my love. For what you have done for this world and me, you deserve peace and happiness for all your days. But that condolence, for as well as you have already paid for it, must still be earned.” Pausing, I changed my tone to forceful, for even Elves need to enforce their feelings. “And all the grief you carry should not be carried alone. I will share this burden with you, and you cannot deny me this wish.”

[KC]

Aragorn felt his face crack into a smile. Arwen was too good to be living in such a troubled world. However, if she was choosing to stay in it for him, he would not try to dissuade her now. He needed her too badly, for, indeed, she was able to calm him, to assure him that the darkness would fade away into sunlight. As she grasped his hand tightly, Aragorn felt his worries and cares dissolve into nothingness. It was as if someone was turning back time, stripping away the wrinkles and problems that accompanied Aragorn's aging. There was no Ring, hobbits existed only in Shire, wizards merely set off fireworks, and there was no darkness and evil spreading over their land. There was only this... this elvish divinity in front of him, and it felt as if he had just discovered her in the forest for the first time.

Aragorn's smile widened. "We will discuss that, A'maelamin, I promise you, but, please, not now. I never wished grief and worry upon us, but they somehow wormed their ways into our lives despite our best efforts. I have only ever wanted happiness for us, and I have a feeling that, in this spot, we may yet be happy tonight.

((Le sigh... Sorry it's so short! I have to run again. ))

[Lady Arwen]

I smiled, happy that I had reached Aragorn and that he would give up his grief for at least one night. It was all I ever asked of him, and he knew that.

“Aragorn, I am happy that you are here. I have not seen you in what feels like an age. So much time has passed since you went into the North, and yet so little has happened. You did not chance to think of coming back to me?” I asked him, taking his hand again and holding it to my heart.

There had been so little that I had chanced to achieve in the time he had been gone; my thoughts always wound back to him in some way. I had spent most of my time reading spell books and practicing sword and riding techniques, but they were empty and meaningless without someone to share the knowledge with. With everything I did I tried to envision Aragorn seeing someday. I learned and worked and lived for him. He knew that.

There was something about him that just made my whole being sing with praise and glory to the heavens. Something about him made my heart light and happy, and always made my face crease into a smile. There was just so much that I needed to say to him, but I knew there would never be the time to say.

I tried desperately in the time I had alone to think of the right words, and every time I tried, I came up with nothing. Telling him I loved him wasn’t enough. There was more to it that just love. It was respect and trust and honor and faith. It was…

I wavered as the right words eluded me once again. There was no falter in my step, no shudder of my skin, but I could feel my heart quiver as I missed the mark once more.

[KC]

"Oh, Mela en' coiamin (love of my life)," Aragorn sighed, taking Arwen's chin gently in his free hand so that he could stare straight into her beautiful blue eyes, "you ask if I ever thought to come back to me though I am sure that you knew the answer even before you spoke." He smiled slightly. "With every heartbeat, I wished that I could be with you, though it did not matter where."

What had he truly accomplished while he was away from her? He had been trying to find his own strengths and attributes in himself. It was one thing to be able to trust himself when he was near Arwen. She made him feel as if he could do absolutely anything; no task was too great, but it was much more difficult when he was separated from her. It always felt that something was missing when he was not able to reach out and grab her hand. He felt weaker and feebler, and his own insecurities and frailties always seemed to become more blatant and glaring.

But he had had a few talks with Gandalf. The wizard was yet another who had faith in him. Something was happening to him, but Aragorn wasn't truly sure what it was. The Ring had been within his grasp for days, and he had not once lifted even a finger in an effort to take it. Perhaps Arwen and Gandalf's belief in him was not totally unfounded.

But all of this was unimportant now. Names and bloodlines were nothing. The only problem of the moment was the increasing threat of becoming lost in Arwen's eyes. He had never been able to help but to stare in awe at her, and Aragorn had always trusted that Arwen did not mind.

[Lady Arwen]

((Okay... going back into the script now. ))

I smiled, not saying anything, and lifted my face to his and placed a tender kiss across his lips. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled his body closer to mine, and I pressed my warmth against his cold flesh. I laughed as his beard tickled my chin, but I didn't let that phase the sweetness of my kiss. I didn't want to be too forward, as I hadn't seen him in a long time, but he was over due, and so was I. That was all that mattered.

I pulled back, and smiled even broader. My hands wound themselves up to his hair and pulled it back behind his ears, and then I caressed his face. Holding his temples in my hands, I ran my thumbs over his eyebrows, and smiled again, letting my arms drop to the arms that held my waist snuggly. I held them tenderly.

For a moment, I rested my head against his chest, content to just exist with him. That was all I had ever wanted. After I had found him, that was all I ever dreamed about. Well, it was all I ever tried to dream about. Haunting images chased me in my dreams, and it was all I could do to shut them out of my waking moments. There were orcs and evil wizards, and an eye, a burning, horrible eye...

I looked up, not at all disturbed on the surface. I smiled again, and rubbed Aragorn's arms with my hands. I needed to change the subject, so I could release the images now floating in my mind. I gazed into those great, green eyes and felt at peace.

"Renech i lu i erui govannen?" (Do you remember when we first met?) I asked him softly, gazing into his eyes, lost in his essence. There was something that he and I hadn't talked about in a few years. Well, we hadn't really talked about it at all.

[KC]

Did he remember when they had first met? A smile danced across Aragorn's face. It was the happiest memory that he cherished, the thought that he would cling to when things looked their blackest.

He had been merely wandering in the forest, a usual pastime for him, but things had felt somehow different from normal that day, as if the woods knew that Aragorn's life was about to change forever, to be given a meaning and a reason to wake up ever morning that he'd never before experienced. It was then when he laid eyes upon the most beautiful sight any man had ever seen. He saw first her glossy, onyx colored hair, but then the divinity (for Aragorn could not imagine her to be anything other than a divinity) turned. He was absolutely mesmerized by her piercing blue eyes and her snowy complexion, a hint of rose gracing her cheeks and lips. She was singing, and, though Aragorn knew the language, he could not understand the words, even if his life had depended upon it. He was merely enchanted by the sound of her voice, which was more beautiful than any other sound he had ever heard, and he knew the melody would haunt his thoughts until the day when death overcame him.

Aragorn had felt both terrified and elated simultaneously, wanting to hide in fear as he felt like singing and dancing. Instead, he had simply stood, as still as the statues of his ancestors and watched her, being at a loss of what to do. He had wanted to stay there forever, for he would have been blissful evermore.

"Nauthannem i ned ol reniannen (I thought I had strayed into a dream)" Aragorn replied truthfully, pulling Arwen closer to him. It still almost seemed like a dream to him, to be here with his elvish divinity, to be the one man in the world whom she had chosen to love.

[Lady Arwen]

I touched Aragorn's cheek affectionatly. I remembered the day well enough. I had been out for a walk, and he had wandered into my play area. His mother had been in a meeting with my father, and Aragorn was left to wander the grounds. He had been young then, maybe about 20. He was so carefree then. And yet, it was so long ago.

"Gwenwin in enninath...U-arnech in naeth i si celich. (Long years have passed…You did not have the cares you carry now.)"

I gazed up into his eyes, glad that he was back in my arms again once more. Thinking fondly of how I had so instantly taken to him, I blushed in my reverie. I had waited a long time for a love such as the one he and I so instantly had. Nearly two thousand years, to be exact.

"Renech i beth i pennen? (Do you remember what I told you?)"


(Blech, sorry it's short. I'm tired and hot....)